


Never Kiss Boys In Ward Five

by wryandwatchful



Category: Darkseptiplier, Septiplier - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Altered Mental States, Alternate Universe - Mental Institution, Darkiplier Mark Fischbach, Depressed Sean McLoughlin, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Emotional Manipulation, Gen, M/M, Mark Fischbach Egos, Mental Health Issues, RPF, Septiplier AWAY!, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Wilford Warfstache | William J. Barnum | The Colonel Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-18 01:36:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20630939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wryandwatchful/pseuds/wryandwatchful
Summary: After a failed suicide attempt Sean Mcloughlin is admitted to a psychiatric hospital a lá "Girl Interrupted" where he meets various other patients (feat. Youtubers) along his path to recovery. However, there's one patient who has a particularly DARK personality. By manipulating everyone and anyone around him, he'll make sure that Sean comes to see things from HIS side of cuckoo's nest.





	Never Kiss Boys In Ward Five

The temperature inside the Brightview Psychiatric Institute was chilly to say the least. To say the most, it was goddamn **sub-arctic**. 

Sean swore that if he held his breath long enough he'd exhale a cloud of vapor like he had on those chilly mornings back in Ireland. 

_ `I don't belong here.' _ he thought bitterly, burrowing further into the cocoon of blankets he'd been swaddled in inside the ambulance when he was transferred. Every brush of the fabric against his pale skin sent a rush of prickling tingles radiating up his arms. It was like it had been bleached, washed with scalding water, and then bleached once again. ' _ Sterile _ ,' he mused, _ 'like everything else in this place.' _

Sean had arrived at the psychiatric hospital early that morning- 4 a.m. to be exact- long after the moon had set but still too soon for the sun to paint the sky with its pinkish hues. Tears had fallen freely down the Irishman's cheeks as he was passed along to a nurse in blue scrubs. The wheelchair he pushed- a rickety metal contraption- would've looked out of place even in the seventies when hospitals like this were still a booming industry. The perfect place to throw your less than perfect children, locking them away like a dirty secret. 

They rounded a corner, passing by a nurse's station where weary faces flashed superficial smiles of pity towards Sean. 

He scrubbed at the tear tracks on his face, cursing his weakness, damning the tears, and hating himself for sinking so low despite his usual facade of upbeat style and charming wit. 

"I can walk fine." He bit out, perhaps a little too harshly, but the nurse behind him didn't respond and just continued to push him along the maze of winding white papered halls.

The room he'd been assigned to was larger than Sean expected; _ 'Thank god for small favors.', _spanning at least ten meters in each direction with two beds resting on either side beneath a long row of double-paned, barred, plexiglass windows.

_ 'Well that seems like overkill.' _Sean grimaced.

A sandy-haired stranger occupying the farthest bed turned away from the intrusive beam of white light that cast in from the hallway. With a tinge of guilt he realized the ward would be co-dorm and the thought of interrupting someone else's sleep so early had Sean grasping for the words to apologize. Before he could voice his condolences though, a huffed chuckle from the nurse gave him pause. 

"We both know you weren't really sleeping, Felix. Don't make the new guy feel bad." The nurse scolded good-naturedly. Sean had a hard time believing him though as the mysterious figure didn't move, talk, or respond in any way.

Still feeling a little leery he carefully stood up from the wheelchair, keeping his itchy blanket clasped tightly around his neck like a cloak against a harsh and biting wind.

His slip-proof socks gripped the cold tiles as he shuffled the short distance to the unoccupied bed.

It seemed like a pretty meager-looking mattress at first glance; barely two inches thick and a sickly forest green color. Wondering if it could get any worse, he pressed a tentative hand against the fabric, sighing disappointedly at the telltale crinkling beneath his fingers. Yes it could. 

"Plastic?"

"We've had some accidents in the past." Came the nurse's apologetic confirmation.

_ 'Accidents with what?!' _ Sean wanted to shout. _ 'Blood, piss, shit?' _

All were unfavorable options.

"Do I get sheets, or…?"

"Oh right, one sec." It sounded like the nurse was a little absentminded, a frightening adjective to place on someone who's responsible for your safety and wellbeing. The door shut heavily behind him, sounding like a gunshot going off as it bathed the room in near-darkness,leaving the Irishman once more alone with his racing thoughts.

…

…..

...

"Don't get your hopes up."

A voice came from behind him, making Sean's skin prickle with cold fear as he chased the the sound. A tiny shriek bubbled up in his throat when he was suddenly face to face with his _ supposedly _ sleeping roommate. 

"There's no locks on the doors. And there are cameras in everywhere but our bathrooms." The man continued in a heavy European cadence, like each word had to be translated in his head before he could speak them.

_ 'I guess he really was faking then.' _Sean realized with an unpleasant sinking in his gut. 

The intimidating psych patient before him was taller by at least four inches, with Sean having to crane his head back to look at his face. Short blonde hair stuck up at varying angles of disarray and dark circles hung heavily beneath his eyes. It looked like the guy had been trying- and failing- to fall asleep for _ weeks _.

"You in there?" The stranger waved a hand in front of Sean's face, pulling him back from his quiet inspection. 

"Whuh?" 

"I said what are you in for?" The stranger- Felix the nurse had called him- repeated. "Va fön, my english isn't **that** bad." 

"Oh. I w-_ am _ ... _ s-suicidal _." He admitted sheepishly. It was only the second time Sean had uttered the "S" word aloud and it still felt strange to say, like a foreign object against his teeth and tongue. He offered up his left arm for the other to see, exposing a pale expanse wrapped tightly in bandages from wrist to elbow.

Felix examined the bindings that covered his new roommates forearm and noticed the faintest bit of blood had seeped through to form a thin straight line down, betraying the extent of Sean's affliction. Guiltily, his roommate barked a laugh and shook his head in dismissal, eyes reflecting an apologetic glint as they shifted to avoid Sean's. With an overdramatic yawn and a muttered hum of "Boring," Felix stretched and sauntered back to his bed, climbing under scratchy sheets of his own. 

_ 'Weirdo' _.

Not even a minute after his odd exchange, another nurse- this one wearing purple- entered the room with an armful of linens and a single flimsy pillow tucked under one arm. "Breakfast is at 7, and group therapy starts at 8." The sheets were dropped carelessly onto the plastic mattress as he talked, ruining any sense of friendliness the nurse before this one had shown. The sour practitioner turned and left, letting the door slam loudly yet again. 

Tears burned at the corners of Sean's eyes as a feeling of helplessness washed over him. 

He hated it in here. 

He hated the cold.

He hated the relentless medical odor in the air.

He hated the negative attitudes of the so-called "caretakers".

He hated-

_ 'No. Stop it, Sean. Stop.' _

If he allowed himself to indulge in those thoughts any longer he'd lose his composure and completely shut down. He was there to get better, right? He had to _ try _.

Sean scrubbed the tears away with his palm and got to work making his mediocre bed. 

Unsurprisingly, it only took a moment to set up, and considering the fact that he could lift the flimsy mattress with one hand- it was an easy task that left him feeling somewhat accomplished.

Warmth, however, still seemed too far away to hope for as he slid into the newly made bed. _ 'Even these sheets are itchy.' _ He frowned.

Steel blue eyes scanned the ceiling above, tracing the pockmarked styrofoam panels as he tried to will himself to fall asleep. His mind raced even now, flitting around his skull like a bird, frantic yet unable to find a place to perch and rest.

"Oh right. Hey, new guy?" Felix spoke up again. He'd rolled onto his side and propped himself up on an elbow. Sean did the same, mimicking his roommates posture in the hope he'd come off as more relaxed than he currently felt. 

"Yeah?"

"You should watch out for Mark."

_ 'What?' _Those simple words- while innocent enough on their own- together held a strange weight, a tone of warning; of danger. "What do you mean?" Sean leaned closer, trying to find his roommates gaze in the darkness. Part of him hoped the guy was just messing with him, that if he could just find his face in the inky black night, he would see a huge grin beaming back at him.

After the nearly tangible pause- where all that Sean could hear was his own heartbeat hammering in his ears- his roommate once again spoke up, this time in a conspiratorial whisper that made Sean strain his ears to listen. 

"He's not really a patient...," Felix stammered, seemingly searching for the right words, "He's uh…a _ resident _, more like."

"He's been here longer than any of us, but he's never been let _ out _." 

The Irishman felt his skin prickle with goosebumps. "What's wrong with him?" The way his roomate spoke of him- of Mark- made him seem like some eldritch horror, eternal and restless, haunting the hospital's very foundation. 

"If any of those shrinks knew the answer to that, none of us would be here." Felix laughed- a harsh barking sound- and turned his back to Sean, effectively ending their conversation. 

For the final time that night, the Irishman was left to his thoughts, his mind now racing for a different reason entirely. 

Who was this Mark guy?

Why did Felix sound afraid of him? 

Would Sean be in any danger?

These thoughts and more bounced around in his head for what felt like ages until he finally passed out from sheer exhaustion.

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter title from Panic! at the Disco "Camisado" A Fever You Can't Sweat Out


End file.
